


Rubik's Cube

by Amazing_E_ko



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Backstory, Canon - Manga, Character Study, Gen, Mid-Canon, No Romance, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:58:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amazing_E_ko/pseuds/Amazing_E_ko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six pieces of the puzzling relationship between Hiroto Maehara and the Chairman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rubik's Cube

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sententiae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sententiae/gifts).



> I don't think I have much to say about this one - the Rubik's Cube theme is pretty obvious, I guess. I stole it from the Chairman's first appearance, as it seemed like a good way to structure the segments. They're more or less chronological, with one obvious jump backwards.
> 
> This fic was a lot of fun to write - it was really interesting to play around with characters I had never really explored, and writing the sinister, oily voice of the Chairman was really intriguing. Thanks so much to Sententiae for giving me such an interesting prompt to work with.
> 
> A huge thank you also goes out to Hokuto, who did a fabulous last-minute beta for me. Any mistakes are mine alone, obviously. <3

**Blue**

 

The Chairman’s house was large and plain, full of pale wood floors and empty space. The Chairman preferred an elegant aesthetic. The furniture was off-white, and there were no paintings. The only ornamentation, if it could even be called that, was a series of huge, square-sided aquariums. They cast wavering lines across the floors in sunlight, and mad e the rooms glow blue at night. The Chairman tended them himself, feeding his fish with exquisite care. He preferred the carnivorous ones.

He had just finished feeding the last snail to the last pufferfish when he heard the car pulling up. That would be Maehara, from the bank. The Chairman found it useful to cultivate acquaintances in many areas. One never knew when the information would prove useful. And Maehara was particularly easy to manipulate.

A servant led the banker, with his young son in tow, to the living room, and the Chairman welcomed them politely.

“My son is at cram school,” he said, smiling faintly in a way that might be read as apologetic, “but Hiroto is welcome to amuse himself.”

The elder Maehara looked meaningfully at his child, and Hiroto wandered away to look at the fish. The Chairman watched him out of the corner of his eye. Hiroto’s expression was steady, though he didn’t look bored, just relaxed, as though he was content to let the world flow by him.

When Maehara had given up the useful scraps of information he possessed he descended into a kind of ingratiated wheedling, all but outright begging the Chairman to accept his son into Kunugigaoka. The Chairman smiled and nodded, and beckoned Hiroto back over.

“Tell me, Hiroto-kun, how are your studies going?”

The boy looked at him calmly, his eyes steady and unafraid.

“They’re fine, sir.”

The Chairman raised an eyebrow and took a Rubik’s Cube from the side table.

“Can you solve this?”

Hiroto tried, but in less that two minutes he was hopelessly tangled in the twisting colours, and the Chairman had his answer.

“I’m sure your son will do fine,” he said to Maehara. “I have full confidence in him.”

_He’ll be in Class E within a year_ , he thought privately.

 

**Green**

 

Kunugigaoka was alright. It was famous as the best school in a hundred miles, but Hiroto didn’t see any special differences. There were friendly students, mean students, pretty girls, ugly girls. The only difference was the path that led up west from the school, winding through the green hills to the tiny shack where Class E lived.

Hiroto had never been up there. He saw the students, coming down for school assemblies. They got sneered at, and laughed at, and sometimes people even threw trash at them. Hiroto did not join in. He stayed at the back, and tried not to look. He was afraid.

Not afraid of the Class E students, who were mostly cowed and silent creatures, but of himself. If he did look at them, what would he do?

Towards the end of his second semester of first year the call came. He was sent up to the Chairman’s office, and his homeroom teacher was waiting for him too. He knew what was coming at once. He didn’t listen to the scolding, the patronizing reassurance that if he did well he could come back, or the undertone of scorn in the Chairman’s voice. It was almost a relief to be sent to Class E. At least now he didn’t have to be afraid.

“Your father will be most disappointed,” the Chairman said, just as Hiroto was leaving. He was smiling like a shark, and Hiroto could not help the shivers that crawled up his spine. He thought about all the time his father had wasted in the Chairman’s cold house, and knew that he should feel guilty. But he didn’t.

“Yes, I suppose he will.”

The next day he climbed up the narrow green track to his new classroom. It was a long, hard walk, and the building smelled of rot and mould. There were lots of things to complain about.

It was better.

**Orange**

 

“So the Maehara boy was dropped down to Class E.”

The Chairman looked up to see his son standing in the doorway. As always, Gakushuu was well-dressed and tidy, and there were several study books tucked under his arm. He was also carrying a bag of tangerines.

“Does it surprise you?”

Gakushuu laughed, a full and genuine laugh.

“Of course not, dear Father. I knew it would happen. I’m only surprised, if you could call it that, to find that it took him so long.” He shrugged, stepping into the room. “It is a shame though. He could have been a useful pawn, if he’d got his act together.”

“And now that he is in Class E, what is your analysis?”

Gakushuu pulled a tangerine out of the bag and began tossing it in his hand, watching it steadily.

“He wasted any talent he might have had. Hitoro has always had a way with people, especially women, but he never uses that ability to his own advantage. He’s content to amble along in life. Someone like that is totally worthless.”

The Chairman set down his pen with a click and raised his arm, catching the fruit his son had just sent flying towards his head.

“So you never considered him a friend?” The Chairman’s tone was mild. His fingers patiently and carefully segmented the orange, pulling away the little white strips from the sweet flesh.

“Of course not,” Gakushuu said. “The word friend has no meaning. Don’t worry, Father, I remember all your lessons.”

 

**Red**

 

Valentine’s Day was coming.

Hiroto had always enjoyed Valentine’s. He liked chocolate, and he never turned away the chocolates that were given to him. This year, for the first time ever, it was making him feel vaguely uncomfortable. Oh he would get chocolate – from the girls in other schools, from the high-school girls, and even some from the other students here (though that would be given with a wink and a nudge and an “I’ll-deny-it-if-you-ever-tell-anyone”). But it wouldn’t feel the same.

He was currently zoning out. Class E’s teacher, a portly old man with far too much saliva, was droning on about the dullest point of history he could find. Class E would have been a difficult task for any teacher, but of course the Chairman had made certain that their teacher, like everything else, was massively subpar. And from the Chairman’s perspective, it worked perfectly.

A note folded into a paper aeroplane sailed over and landed on his desk. He flipped it open. A rather crudely drawn picture of a girl was inside, kneeling down with no clothes on. Hiroto rolled his eyes, crumpled the note, and tossed it away.

It was more of the same at lunch, the other boys hounding him about who he was going out with and where. He joined in, but his barbs were pretty weak. In the back of his mind he wondered what the Chairman would think of this. Would he see it as Class E living up (or down) to their worst stereotypes? Would he think it was just stupid teenage fun? Hiroto wasn’t sure. He had no idea what the Chairman’ philosophy on dating was, and he had never seen Gakushuu-san express any interest in the opposite sex, so he had nothing to go on there. Hiroto was generally ambivalent about other people’s opinions, but somewhere in his heart the thought of the Chairman’s judgement rankled against him.

When the final bell rang Hiroto eased himself out of the classroom as quickly as he could. He wanted to relax, without any jealous eyes on him. He was about halfway down the hill when a voice called out him.

“Oi, Maehara-kun.” He turned back, and saw Isogai-kun heading down the hill towards him. Hiroto had never really spoken to Isogai, but he did remember that he had not joined in at lunch.

“What do you want?” Hiroto said, shifting his bag on his shoulder uneasily.

“Do you want to walk home together?”

“I can’t give you any advice about girls.”

“Don’t want any,” Isogai said, shrugging. They talked about baseball instead. It was a bit awkward, but when they said goodbye there was a warm and solid feeling in Hiroto’s chest, and it struck him that he might have made a friend.

 

**White**

 

_(Four years earlier.)_

Maehara had brought his son with him again.

The Chairman stood up, smoothing out his suit pants in one swift habitual gesture, and climbed the stairs to knock on his son’s door.

“The son of one of my acquaintances is here,” he said, looking in at Gakushuu. “Entertain him. I’ll be watching.”

Gakushuu smiled patiently.

“Whatever you say, Father. I hope this lesson is more difficult than your last one.” He stood up, rolling his eyes, and walked past the Chairman. Just as they were level his hand snaked out, stabbing a pen towards the Chairman’s leg. The Chairman grabbed from him without hesitation, snapped the cap on, and slid it into his pocket.

“Don’t hurt him, Gakushuu-kun. It would be tedious to explain to the father.”

Gakushuu bowed, his eyebrows raised sarcastically.

 

The Chairman kept an eye on them while he talked to Maehara. At first he was merely checking to make sure that his son was doing as he was told, but the longer it went on, the more intrigued he became by Gakushuu’s efforts. They were studying together, working on their math homework. Though they were in the same year at school, Gakushuu was much more advanced.

“No,” he was saying to Hiroto, “you do it like this.”

His tone was faintly scornful, and he swatted the edge of the white paper with his ruler as he spoke. The Chairman’s mouth curved upwards faintly. Learning how to teach was an essential part of learning how to control others.

Less satisfying was Hiroto’s behaviour. He did what Gakushuu told him to do, but the Chairman did not feel that he was really taking it in. He seemed, in some strange way, to merely be playing a part.

Later, when the Maehara father and son had left, he asked Gakushuu how their work had gone. Gakushuu frowned.

“The boy is an idiot. He couldn’t keep up with me at all.”

 

It was almost four years later that the call came. The Prime Minister himself spoke to the Chairman, begging him to take a monster on as a teacher. And though the Chairman intended to from the very beginning, he let them think he was doubtful.

“I can’t very well accept a teacher I haven’t interviewed,” he said, smiling politely. “You must allow me to speak with the,” and he hesitated, teasing them with the words he hadn’t spoken, “candidate.”

They agreed, after some negotiation, and he was taken to a safe house, far in the hills. It was a short interview. The Chairman made his assessment of the creature within ten minutes.

He had, for the first time in his career, found a potentially dangerous enemy.

 

**Yellow**

 

Koro-sensei (though he hadn’t yet been named that, and wouldn’t be for another two weeks) came as a shock. The announcement was surprising in itself, of course, and so implausible that none of the students believed it the first time they heard it, but the teacher himself was even more shocking.

Hiroto regarded him with a sense of frustrated scepticism. He wanted to disbelieve in this absurd creature, and he couldn’t. He spent the first three days commiserating with Isogai about the ridiculousness of the situation. They were both wary of the situation. No matter how Koro-sensei tried to impress them, there was no way Class E’s situation would improve. That, at least, had been obvious from the start.

Hiroto felt this even more strongly than the others. He had enough memories of the Chairman to know the level of control he imposed on the school. He had never had much of an appetite for the Chairman’s manipulation, but there was one lesson he had learned well. You didn’t fight it. You let it wash over you, and you hoped to remain beneath its notice. With Koro-senei here, there was no way that would happen.

His sense of tension continued for four days. Then, on Friday, Koro-sensei came and loomed over his desk while he was doing math. It was statistics, something he had never been good at, and today he felt worse than ever. He’d hated it for years, ever since the day Gakushuu had tried to explain it to him. He struggled with it now, as Koro-sensei’s shadow loomed over him, waiting for the teacher to tell him what he was doing wrong.

Koro-sensei moved away, saying nothing. Only when class was over did he speak.

“Maehara-kun, could you please stay behind for a moment?”

Hiroto did as he was asked, furiously resenting the request. He hated being singled out like this.

“Maehara-kun, you don’t seem to enjoy math.”

Hiroto shrugged.

“I’m no good at it,” he said shortly.

Koro-sensei’s grin became even wider than usual, if that was even possible.

“I don’t think math is your particular skill, but you have more talent than you think. Tell me, do you play baseball?”

Hiroto nodded.

Korosensei began to write on the board, telling a story as he did. It was a pretty weird story, about an American journalist who invented a new form of baseball analysis, but Hiroto felt himself becoming interested. Koro-sensei was a good storyteller, and there were enough twists and turns to keep Hiroto entertained.

They worked until about six, at which point Koro-sensei excused Hiroto with a friendly wave. It was only as he was walking home, mulling over the baseball statistics Koro-sensei had used as examples, that he realised what his teacher had really done.

It was getting dark, and so he saw the car coming from quite far off, its lights blinding him. It slowed to a crawl as it drew near, and the window rolled down to reveal the Chairman.

“Maehara-kun,” he said, friendly as could be. “Isn’t it a little late to be heading home?”

“Yes sir. The new teacher was giving me some extra lessons.”

The Chairman nodded.

“How dedicated he is. What kind of lessons?”

Hiroto shrugged.

“Just correcting my basic math.” He lied instinctively, wanting to keep the afternoon away from the gaze of the Chairman.

“You always had trouble with that,” the Chairman said, his voice low and cutting. “I remember what trouble Asano-kun had trying to teach you.”

In the semi-darkness Hiroto could not see the Chairman’s expression clearly, but then he did not need to. He knew that it would be totally neutral and unreadable. The window of the car felt like a dark hole, a cold void. He almost shuddered, and stopped himself by gripping the strap of his bag.

“Safe home,” the Chairman said, after a pause. “Don’t get lost.”

The window slid up and the car purred off into the night. Hiroto sagged with relief, and walked on. The shadow of the Chairman lingered behind him, but it did not diminish the enjoyment of the afternoon, in that shabby classroom full of buttery yellow light.

Hiroto squared his shoulders, stretched out his spine, and turned his thoughts back to baseball statistics.

 


End file.
